The Fallen Queen
by MN07
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen died as a mad queen at the hands of her lover. Now, she rises in the east as something new. Her work is not yet finished. Set directly after the events of GoT Episode 8x06.
1. The Death of the Queen

Daenerys let out a small sigh as she saw the throne. All her life, she had been waiting for this moment. She walked towards it, as snow and ash fell from the sky. In the back of her mind, her thoughts were restless and conflicted, but she suppressed them.

She reached out towards the throne and felt her fingers brush on the icy metal. She heard footsteps behind her, and turned around to see Jon Snow walking into the throne room. She smiled.

"When I was a girl, my brother told me it was made with 1,000 swords from Aegon's fallen enemies," she said. "What do 1,000 swords look like in the mind of a little girl who can't count to 20? I imagined a mountain of swords too high to climb… so many fallen enemies, you could only see the soles of Aegon's feet"

"I saw them executing Lannister prisoners in the streets!" Jon interrupted. "They said they were acting on your orders!"

Dany's smile faded. The feeling of doubt and conflict reignited in her mind, but she suppressed them again.

"It was necessary," she said, coldly

"Necessary? Have you been down there? Have you seen?! Children! Little children, burned!" Jon cried out, his words echoing in the throne room.

Dany looked at him, breathing shortly. She wanted him at her side. A strange feeling rose up within her.

"I tried to make peace with Cersei. She used their innocence as a weapon against me. She thought it would cripple me."

"And Tyrion?"

"He conspired begins my back with my enemies. How have you treated people who've done the same to you, even when it broke your heart?"

"Forgive him"

"I can't…"

"You can"

"You can forgive all of them, make them see they made a mistake," Jon pleaded. "Make them understand. Please, Dany…"

She could hear the pain in his voice, the same conflict that kept tearing through her mind. She couldn't let that get to her. She couldn't

"We can't hide behind small mercies. The world we need won't be built by men loyal to the world we have."

"The world we need is a world of mercy! It has to be"

"And it will be," she said, moving closer to him. "It's not easy to see something that's never been before," she said softly. "A good world"

"How do you know? How do you know it'll be good?" Jon asked, pain in his voice.

"Because I know what is good. And so do you"

"I don't…" he said, tears welling in his eyes.

"You do! You do. You've always known"

"What about everyone else? All the other people who think they know what's good?"

Dany looked at him, searching his eyes.

"They don't get to choose"

Jon looked back into her eyes, looking for a sign.

"Be with me," she whispered to him. "Build the new world with me. This is our reason. It has been from the beginning, since you were a little boy with a bastard's name, and I was a little girl who couldn't count to twenty," she said, with hope and love in her eyes. "We do it together"

"You are my Queen," Jon said, his voice breaking. "Now, and always"

Daenerys looked up at him, tears of happiness in her eyes. She reached up and kissed him. She loved him. They would rule the world together, break the wheel. The rightful Queen and King of Westeros. She had won. At last.

She gasped as she felt a cold blade penetrate her armor, and pierce her heart. Slowly she pulled away and looked down at the hilt of the dagger sticking out from her breast. She exhaled, looking up at Jon, who was crying. She looked into his eyes and shuddered as a wave of cold, dark pain washed over her. She tried to cry out in shock, but her breath failed her. Her legs grew weak, and she fell back, into Jon's arms, who lowered her to the ground. She looked up into his eyes. She was alone, scared and confused.

"I…"

Daenerys looked at Jon, as her heart beat ever slower, the coldness setting in. The last thing she heard was Drogon screaming out in anguish, and her fire flickered out.


	2. Daenerys the Undying

Welcome back guys, now we're gonna venture into the unknown. Hope you enjoy ~M

Daenerys awoke suddenly, gasping for air. She looked down at her naked body, upon a small bed. As she caught her breath, she traced the wound upon her chest. It was thin and deep. She could feel her heart beating beneath her fingers. A strange feeling came over her, and her breath quickened again. Something was wrong. She should not be here. As she began to panic, the door opened, and a woman dressed in red entered.

Instinctively, Dany covered herself with the small blanket and shied away towards the corner.

"Be calm, my queen. It's alright," the woman said.

"Where am I?" Daenerys asked, her voice broken.

"You are in the Temple of the Lord of Light, in Volantis."

"How did I get here- Why am I here?!" Dany asked, crying.

"Your child brought you to us, and The Lord of Light let us bring you back," the woman responded calmly. "Come, let us draw you a bath. You must have not taken a proper bath in weeks. Follow me, my queen.

Daenerys followed the priestess through empty halls. Before long, they came upon a bathroom, where a tub of hot water was awaiting her. Here, my queen. Enjoy it. She closed the door behind her and left Dany alone again before she could say anything. She stepped towards the hot tub, which was steaming. Clean clothes were neatly folded to one side, and a washcloth was draped over the other. Tentatively, she climbed into the tub. The heat burned at nothing but her wound. She gasped softly as she felt the pain, a memory of betrayal. She relaxed in the water, and closed her eyes, putting her hand over the wound, over her beating heart.

_"Children! Little children! Burned!"_

_"__What about everyone else? All the other people who think they know what's good?"_

_"__You are my queen... now and always" _

She opened her eyes, which were welling with tears. A stifled sob escaped her lips. The same words kept playing over and over inside her mind, the image of her unleashing fury upon King's Landing burned into her memory. The bells, ringing, again, again, again, over and over again. Daenerys wept, the words echoing through her thoughts, until a blade pierced through it all, and buried itself in her heart.

She could barely breathe. All she felt was confusion, anger, sadness, guilt. What had she done? Her actions were unforgivable. She had deserved to die. It was Jon who had driven the dagger through her chest, she remembered. Him, of all people. The one she loved. Crying, she began to clean herself with the washcloth. No matter how many times she scrubbed, the filth of her sins remained.

Quickly, she dried herself and changed into the clothing. As if by magic, the red woman entered again, and guided her over to a chair.

"Sit down, my queen."

"I am no queen..." Daenerys responded in a quiet, resigned voice. She sat down, and the priestess began to braid her hair.

"Why did you bring me back?"

"The Lord of Light willed it so. Your work here is not yet finished."

"Why not? I am a monster! I am worse than my own father, The Mad King. I slaughtered thousands upon thousands of people. I deserve death."

The priestess said nothing for a short while. "Perhaps this is your chance to redeem yourself, by completing the task you were sent here to do."

"And what, may I ask, is this task?"

"I wouldn't know," the red woman answered. "The Lord does not always share his full intentions quickly. Soon, we will know."

Daenerys suppressed another wave of tears and pain. She didn't want this. She didn't want to be brought back to life, nor to deal with the fact that she had snapped. She did not want to deal with the fact that she died in her lover's arms, as a tyrant, no better than those on the wheel she had tried so hard to break.

"There, that should do it," the priestess said, finishing her hair. Daenerys looked in the mirror for a long moment, searching for something. A shattered soul stared back.

"Follow me, my queen"

Daenerys got up and followed the priestess as they exited the bathroom, and through many more halls, exited the temple. They took shortcuts and back alleys until they had exited the city.

"Where are you taking me?" Daenerys asked, nervously.

"You will see, my queen."

Dany continued after the woman, as they climbed a hill. She paused at the top and looked back at the great city.

"Come here, my queen."

She looked back towards the red woman and went by her side.

"Look, my queen"

Daenerys looked forward and saw Drogon sitting upon a charred nest. No sooner had she laid eyes on him, then he gave out an earth-shattering roar of joy. She ran towards him, her child. They were together once again.


	3. The Queenslayer and The Dead

"Come on, Snow! It'll be fun..." Tormund teased Jon. Ever since they had gone beyond the wall, Jon had felt more at home, but still, nowhere he went, no matter how far north he ran, he could not escape what he had done.

Queenslayer. He had killed his own love. There was no honor in that. What would his father, Eddard Stark say? He wasn't even his father. Of course, his real father was Rhaegar Targaryen… But Ned had raised him, shaped him into the man he was today.

"Jon!" Tormund yelled, slapping him on the back "Wake up you bloody fool!" He laughed. "What are you doing, sleeping?"

"No," Jon smiled. "Just thinking."

Tormund looked at him for a good minute. "The south has done shit to your head boy… Good thing you're back in the north. This is where you belong. Now, as I was saying. We should go for a climb on the wall?"

"Why?" Jon said, sulking.

"Why? Where's your sense of adventure, Jon! We've been doing nothing but sitting on our asses for the last couple of weeks! I haven't had a proper rush in months. It's not like you have anything to do here. Besides, if anything comes up, you're leaving it behind in good hands." He gestured to the free folk outside.

Jon paused for a moment, then said "Fine, I'll go with you."

"Good! Let's do this. We'll head out for Eastwatch at first light tomorrow."

"Eastwatch? Half of the wall there has been destroyed!"

"All the more fun!" Tormund laughed. "Come on, get some sleep."

Tormund left the tent, and Jon was alone again.

"I haven't been able to sleep…" Jon muttered to himself. Every night was restless. Her face haunted his dreams every night. He would wake up in a cold sweat, with the feeling of blood on his hands.

He sighed and went to lie on his bed, covered in furs. The sun had finally disappeared outside, and it was dark, save for a few candles. He stared up at the roof of his tent, illuminated by the flickering fire of the slow-burning flames. Flames, fire, burning, ashes. It was a long time before he fell asleep.

"_Jon!" A voice called to him from outside. "Come here, my love"_

_Jon left his room and went out onto the walls overlooking the sea. As he descended unto the beach, Daenerys turned to face him._

"_Isn't it beautiful?" She asked, looking over the sea to the setting sun. _

"_Yes, it is..."_

"_Come here, Eddard!" Daenerys called out, and a small boy with blond hair ran out from behind the rocks. Jon laughed and reached out to lift up the child._

"_At the rate he's growing, it won't be long before I can't pick him up anymore."_

_Daenerys and Eddard only laugh. Jon puts the child down, and holds his hand. He turns to look at his wife, but she is gone. He feels the small hand of his child disappear as well, and he turns around, only to find himself in the destroyed throne room, with the body of Daenerys lying on the snow, bleeding out, and with the dragon roaring in the distance._

Jon woke up, looking around him, panicked. It was the same old tent he fell asleep in. The lights of the candles still flickered upon the roof. Sighing, he got up, and went out of his tent. Almost nobody was awake in these early morning hours, so he simply walked out of camp, and went for a walk to clear his head.

As he was rounding the corner on the path, he heard some rustling to his right. He stopped, and looked around for any sign of movement. There were few animals in this part of the north. As he looked around, he heard raspy, heavy breathing. He stood still, searching the dark woods.

He reached for Longclaw, only to realize that he had left it in his tent. In the distance, he saw a dark figure moving. Jon turned to look at it, and the figure's head snapped toward him. Icy blue eyes glowed back at him. He stood deathly still, hoping the thing wouldn't notice him.

Jon waited until it had disappeared from view, and he ran back to camp. He was seeing things, he told himself. This shouldn't be possible. All of the White Walkers and the dead had died when the Night King had been killed. He stood watch at the entrance of the camp until dawn.

#

Tormund approached Jon, who was sitting on a stump outside of camp, peering through the woods, brooding as usual.

"You're up early, Jon! And that's coming from me. Did you even sleep this night?"

Jon waited a while before responding, "I went for a walk out there last night… I saw blue eyes."

Tormund looked at him. "The dead are dead. For good this time."

"I know what I saw, Tormund. It makes no sense, but I know what I saw."

"Fine. I'll send a couple of scouts up north, while the rest of us head for Hardhome. Are we still on for Eastwatch?"

Jon paused. "Yeah. Maybe I am seeing things, who knows? This should help clear my head."

#

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," Jon lied.

"Of course you are thinking about something. You're sitting there brooding."

Jon scoffed, and continued on his horse. The wall on the right loomed over them, while the sun shone ahead of them.

After a few minutes of silence, Jon said "We're almost there, aren't we? Eastwatch is only few miles ahead."

"More or less," Tormund said.

A rider came galloping from the left. Jon and Tormund stopped, as the rider abruptly came to a stop before them.

Out of breath, the rider yelled "They came for us! A fourth of us dead, the other wounded!"

"Slow down boy," Tormund shouted at him. "Catch your breath, and tell us what happened."

The rider gasped for air for a few seconds, then said, "We were on the road to Hardhome, when a horde of wights attacked us. They killed 20 good men, injured 50 more. We managed to drive them off and escape, and I rode ahead to warn you."

Jon and Tormund looked at each other, then at the rider.

"Bring them to Eastwatch. As quickly as you can. We need to get south of the wall, now."


	4. A Castle of Dust and Dreams

Daenerys stroked Drogon's back as they glided over Essos. She did not know where to go, but at least she was with her child. The red priestess had told her she was always welcome in Volantis, but she did not feel like she belonged there. Slaver's Bay was thriving, but Daario was nowhere to be found. There was no place for her.

The land turned to the sea beneath her, and minutes turned to hours. There was little happiness for her anymore, but this was the closest she could get. She closed her eyes and laid her head to rest upon Drogon's back.

#

She awoke suddenly, as Drogon growled softly. In the distance, Daenerys saw land. Drogon let out another friendly growl. It was Dragonstone, as empty as the day she left it. Drogon landed on the beach with a heavy thud, and happily let her down. As soon as she got off, he took off again, to look for food.

Daenerys walked up the same steps she had walked mere months ago. She was so powerful then. Now, she had nobody but her child. She walked through the halls, that had once been alive with voices, plans, and hopes. They were all dead now. Shattered dreams, decorated with dust.

She came upon the throne room, its doors wide open. She could not bear to enter. Thrones had led to all this. A ruthless game. She moved on, and came upon the war room, with the beautifully carved table, now covered in dust. She walked towards the window. The salty wind blew in from the sea, cold and unforgiving.

"My queen," a rough voice spoke out.

Daenerys turned around, to see Grey Worm standing in the doorway.

"Grey Worm? What are you doing here?"

"I went to the Isles of Naath. There was nothing for me there, so I came back here. It is the last place I was happy. I came here to die. Why are you here? I thought you were dead, by the hands of the traitor, Jon Snow."

Dany flinched at the mention of his name. "I don't know. I was brought back by a Red Priestess of Volantis. There was nothing left for me anywhere either. Slaver's Bay does not need me, anyone I've ever trusted is dead or moved on- save for you. The Priestesses will not tell me why they brought me back. I wish they hadn't."

"Well you are back now, my queen" Grey Worm's knowledge of the common tongue had greatly improved in the time that had passed, though his accent still remained.

"What exactly would you have me do?" she said, her voice nearly breaking.

"I don't know. If I could, I would put you on a throne, and bring you the heads of your enemies, one by one, starting with Jon Snow."

Dany flinched again. "Please, don't say his name…"

"I'm sorry my queen."

"I'm no queen either. Not anymore"

"You are to me. You are the Breaker of chains. Always."

"_You are my queen. Now and always," _The words echoed in her mind. She turned away, to hide her tears.

"I am no liberator. I killed hundreds of thousands of people, for what? I am no better than my father. I am a Mad Queen."

"No, my queen," Grey Worm said quickly. "They were your enemies, turned against you by Cersei."

"I do not wish to talk about this anymore," Daenerys snapped.

"Of course, my queen. I am sorry."

"No… I'm sorry for snapping at you," she said, turning back to face him. "I just don't know what to do anymore, where to go…"

Grey Worm paused for a moment, thinking. "If you do not want to rule anymore, you can go anywhere you want, and start a new life. Everyone thinks you are dead. I do not think anybody will be looking for you."

"And Drogon? I can't leave him behind. He's all I have left."

"Stay here, then."

"And then what? Shall I just wait here, to wither and die on that dragonglass throne? I would rather drive another dagger through my heart than do that, but I fear only that I would be brought back again."

"I do not know, my queen. There is plenty of time to think."

Daenerys said nothing, and walked out of the room, leaving Grey Worm staring at the window, alone.


	5. Winter Never Left

Jon and Tormund sat down in the tent. They had just finished setting up camp, a few miles south of Eastwatch, the rest of the free folk having rejoined them.

"So I guess that climb is off, huh?" Tormund chuckled weakly, trying to lighten the mood. "I thought we killed these cunts dead. Why are they back?"

"I don't know," Jon said gruffly. "Maybe we didn't kill them.

"That's crap. I saw all them bloody walkers fade to ice, and them wights drop dead." The rest of the men in the room grumbled in agreement, still shaken by what they had seen.

"We need to tell everybody again," Jon sighed.

"As if they'll believe us!" Tormund scoffed. "Hell, I don't believe it myself."

"I need to get to Winterfell. You stay back here and guard the wall. Now that it is fallen, they can get through. Their numbers are still low. How many dragonglass weapons do we still have?"

"Ten or so. We left most of them behind at Winterfell."

"We'll need more from Dragonstone. There weren't many left in Winterfell when we left. I'll see if Sansa will spare the men. You'll just have to use fire. Do you think you can handle yourselves?"

"Don't worry about us, boy. We've been looking out for ourselves far longer than you have been alive. Just get to Winterfell, and spread the word."

"Ok. Get word to Castle Black. Goodbye, Tormund."

"Goodbye, little crow."

Jon hurried out of the tent and went to saddle his horse. Ghost approached him, a sad look on his face.

"It'll be alright, Ghost. I'll be back soon." Jon stroked the long, white fur of the dire wolf, then got on his horse and sped away from the camp. The snows weren't melting. Winter had come and gone so quickly… Or so he had thought.

#

It had been almost a week of horse riding, and just as many sleepless nights. Jon rode on, wearily, as he saw Winterfell in the distance. He had ridden as fast as his horse would take him, and for as long as it could. As he approached the gates, guards stopped him

"State your business, traveler."

Jon pulled down his hood. "I am Jon Snow. I am here to see my sister, Sansa Stark, the queen in the north."

The guards recognized him. They had ridden beside him in several battles. "M'lord," they said, opening the gates and letting him pass. "She is in the godswood garden."

Jon nodded in acknowledgment and dismounted his horse, tethering the horse, and running to the godswood. As he approached, he saw Sansa sitting by the weirwood tree.

"Sansa," he called out to her.

"Jon? What are you doing here?" She asked, with no response. "What's wrong?"

"The White Walkers. They're back."

Sansa looked at him incredulously. When she realized he was being serious, she scoffed.  
"What do you mean? Arya killed the Night King."

"I don't know," Jon answered. "I saw them, the blue eyes. They killed 20 of my men, injured even more."

"Do you know how many there are?"

"Not as many as before, I think. We need to strike first. We need to wipe them out for once and for all. Do you still have dragonglass?"

"I don't think we even have the men!"

"Then we need to spread the word. Let me take a few men and some ships with me. We must go to Dragonstone and mine the rest."

"Do you really think they are going to believe us again?"

"They've seen it with their own eyes. They trust you. You are the queen in the north!"

"Yes Jon, but they've also seen the Night King, The White Walkers, and The Wights dead."

"Just get the word out. We need to strike now, or they will kill us all. You've seen what they can do. Believe it or not, they are coming back. We can't afford to let them get this far again."

"Fine. Get some rest tonight. I'll send out my men today, and you can take as many as you need with you to Dragonstone."

Jon nodded and walked away.

"Jon!" Sansa called out to him. He stopped, looking back. "I'm… I'm sorry." Jon did not respond. He simply kept on walking, leaving Sansa alone in front of the weirwood tree, the very same one under which she had sworn an oath not to reveal his secret. The very same oath she had broken, mere hours later.

#

Jon could barely sleep again. Even in his old bed, the one he had slept in all throughout his childhood, he still could not find rest. He fell into sleep, for the third time that night.

_Jon looked down in horror, seeing Daenerys laying at his feet with a spear of ice driven through her chest. As he knelt down beside her, a raven flew away, its caws echoing through the silent dream. She looked up at Jon, trying to speak, but only blood came out._

"_Shh… It's ok. Don't try to speak. I'm here." Jon did his best to comfort her._

"_H- he… the n-" She coughed "night king"_

"_Who?"_

_Dany tried to continue, but she could not breathe. Jon held her, looking into her eyes as the life drained out of them._

He was woken up by the roosters crowing. He got out of bed, shaken, and opened his window to let the sun in. The rays illuminated his simple room. Jon got dressed, grabbed Longclaw, and went to the great hall to eat.

#

Jon approached the gates with 20 men.

"Come! We ride for White Harbor. Ships will await us there," Jon said. The gate opened, and they rode out. Sansa watched from the ramparts as they left Winterfell once again.


End file.
